A Reaper's Soul
by White Shade
Summary: New Death Scythes are ready to be tested and along with William T. Spears, only one reaper from England's branch is allowed at his side. It's a huge chance to prove worth to some renowned reapers, but how far does a reaper go to prove he has what it takes? Warning: contains character torture and reaper drama. Rated for future chapter content.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

"Think about it!"

"I will not have such ridiculous talk in my office today."

"Ask him yourself!"

"Out of my office, please. Otherwise, I will have to remove you personally."

The hedge clipper death scythe was at the ready, but Ronald wasn't having that experience today, or ever if he could help it. The idea wasn't that absurd though.

"Will!" Ronald exclaimed.

"That's Mr. Spears to you," William corrected sternly. "Now, get out. I have some paperwork to finish."

Ronald narrowed his eyes, ready to turn green with envy. Sighing, he retreated back to his own office to wrap up the end of his shift by submitting the activity logs of the those who have died today.

It was in the hallway he passed the vermin, but he gave the reaper a cold stare as they passed.

"My my, someone's had a rough day." The pest returned his look, making the skin crawl from beneath Ronald.

Knox was growing increasingly annoyed with that reaper. That reaper was the only one who could get away with calling Mr. Spears Will, and he was the only reaper in this entire association in which William T. Spears would cover for, seemingly willingly. Jealousy was becoming a part of Knox's everyday life. The favoritism around here!

William sat in his comfortable chair, newly arrived since yesterday, ready to wrap up his paperwork for the sets of soul collection last night. As he lay his fingertips upon the final grammatical punctuation mark, he only needed to look to his right.

"Good evening," he greeted the reaper now atop his cleared off desk, leaning in. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Oh honey there are plenty of things you could do for _me_. That's not why I'm here. I'm here to inquire the status of the new death scythe models. Any dates to testing them yet?"

Will brought up his inbox, finding a new note about it as of two hours ago. New death scythe models were the greatest break a reaper could ever hope for. Springtime was the best for this reason, especially if the models were interesting and they could take some out for a practical skill spin.

"The dates are set to be a month hence," William announced, looking back at the red reaper, who was smirking. Pushing up his spectacles, William sighed as Grell Sutcliff was giving him his best pleading look. Grell had been marvelously well behaved, but he already knew why. It was for this opportunity.

"Oh come on Will, I know it's you plus one...please?" Grell was pleading. Sighing again, a smirk came across the black reaper's face.

"All right," he agreed, sending Grell into a cheering position. This happened nearly every few years, Will would give in and take Grell with him to the testing grounds. It was the only time of year when he and Sutcliff actually saw each other consistently for a solid few weeks. That is, unless the red reaper had gotten himself into some major trouble.

The reliable thing about Grell was that Will could always count on him to provide demonstrations and profiles that were near to perfection. Paperwork was never Grell's forte, but that was all right, as long as they met in the middle with the follow ups. This was why William T. Spears always gave in to Grell's pleading eyes, every single damn time. For Grell, it was all a matter of getting to Will first, before anyone else could ask him, but behind closed doors, William would always think of Grell first before anyone else for a project like this, which was now becoming a more frequent activity.

"Oh my, yes!" Grell exclaimed, jumping over the desk and crashing into Will, embracing him tightly and sending them rolling backwards into the file cabinet. Luckily, the new chair was well equipped for such an impact. "Thank you so much! I look forward to this every time. When do I need to fill out my information?" He looked back up at Will.

William shook his head. "I'll take care of that. Any updates on your current residence or the like?"

"Nothing you haven't heard." Grell stood up again. "Done for the day?"

"Just wrapping up, why?"

"Curious that's all. Perhaps you'd like to take a walk or have dinner?" Grell asked in hope.

"As much fun as it sounds, I cannot. There's still a lot of work to be done," Will replied. Scoffing, Grell was walking towards the door, stopping to look behind him briefly.

"See you when the month is out, Will," Grell said. Will knew exactly why this pleasure of Grell's behavior was occurring. He wasn't jeopardizing the future for a short term screw off. If only he could get that out of the red reaper every time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

"So unfair!" Ronald exclaimed the next week when the release was official for the testing of the new death scythes. "I've been at this for a few years now. Surely that's enough to qualify for one testing!"

"It's already been decided. And you are far from ready for such a project. Now please, remove yourself," Spears replied.

There was nothing he could do. Grell was always farther along than he could ever be. Ronald was tired of this. He wanted to put that red reaper into place, and this afternoon was the time to do so. Running into Sutcliff was easy, it was getting him alone that was the difficult part. This wasn't his style at all, but if it meant moving up around here, he was more than willing to cut a few corners.

Ronald decided to write a letter on Will's behalf, asking Grell to meet him for dinner at one of those fancy french restaurants that a lot of couples go to. It was obvious the red reaper had an attraction for William T. Spears, so surely he'd fall for this. After the letter was left on his desk, Ronald planned his actions carefully, making his way slowly to the restaurant that night.

* * *

Upon his arrival and dressed to impress, there was a note already sitting on the table, telling him to walk behind the restaurant and wait for him, as he may be arriving late due to a cumbersome soul he had reviewed earlier that day, sending a note of apology and an approximate time of his new arrival. As per the note, Ronald waited, hidden away within the shadows of the darkest corner. He waited...and waited...and waited.

Where was he?

A sharp sound began to ring in his ear as he found a blade merely centimeters from his throat. An old fashioned death scythe, and a small one at that. The free hand bound the boy to his capture, who wasn't planning on holding him there forever.

"You're lucky my duties are done for tonight."

Upon Ronald's release, he retaliated with his lawnmower scythe but the sickle pinned his coat to the wall behind him, becoming ingrained to the brick wall behind him. Immobilized for those few moments, his opponent revved up his own weapon of choice.

"You should really be careful of whose signatures you forge," Grell warned, emerging from his own shadows. "I mean really, how could I fall for _that_? Will always leaves equal spacing between his middle initial and the rest of his name. He's just too perfect for a mistake such as that."

Ronald's teeth gritted as he squirmed to release himself from Grell's sickle maneuver. The weight of his own scythe was taking up his right arm, but his left was stuck. He couldn't drop his own scythe, that would be suicide against Grell.

"So, what's this all about then, hmm?" Grell asked. "You wanted my attention so badly. Well, now you have it. What is it that you want to tell me?"

Knox sighed, facing Sutcliff with all he had left of dignity pinned to the wall.

"You should never be the one to work side by side with William T. Spears!" he exclaimed. "You do not deserve the position you have acquired!" He broke out of the sickle with all his anger, sending the blade to clank against the pavement. Grell however, was unimpressed, tapping the right frame of his spectacles.

"Oh? And what have you done?" Grell asked. "What makes you any better of a reaper?"

Knox did not want to give him what he wanted, so his mouth remained shut. He charged at the red reaper, but all Sutcliff did was evade his every attack.

"What aren't you fighting me proper?!" Knox exclaimed, becoming more and more frustrated. Grell knew how to play the systems, and this little drama spat would not stand between him and the opportunity he actually had to work for every few years. His own death scythe was no longer running, that was merely to creep the kid out in the beginning.

"You brought me all the way out here for a fight? Near a romantic restaurant? How insensitive of you," Sutcliff commented. "Now, calm down." Ronald wasn't calming down. Not this time. This time, it had gone too far for him to take.

* * *

The overtime just never seemed to quit on him, no matter what. There were too many papers to complete and logs to drop off in the library tonight yet. Plus his own soul collections in between.

He was off on a special case. A priest had finally come to pass and would receive judgement from the higher powers. After his soul collection, William was reviewing the cinematic record on the way back to the offices. He only had another two hours before his last soul was to be collected for the night, and there was still much work to be done.

The sound of a heavy motor reached his ears as he passed that fancy french restaurant in town, realizing the sound was too out of place to be a coincidence. Taking a peek around the back led to a flash of unmistakeable red hair and that blinding blond reaper.

"Seriously? Your jealously is the only reason I've been deterred from returning cinematic records to the library? I just don't have time for you right now." That was Grell's voice, much to Spears's shock. He knew this scene required context and that if he simply approached the situation now, it would yield no good outcomes to speak of.

The chainsaw wasn't even running, Sutcliff was simply dodging and slapping Knox around as he tried to dice the red reaper like a piece of fruit.

"What were you hoping to accomplish tonight anyway? You go through all that trouble and this is all you want?" Grell asked.

"I said shut up! Now fight me, or are you afraid you're going to lose your life?" Knox's eyes narrowed. This wasn't like him at all.

Grell looked at a clock from his pocket. "Perhaps some other time, Ronald. I haven't the time for this anymore. Ask me to my face next time." Grell began to slowly walk away, but the boy just wouldn't stop. William was starting to understand now and before Ronald could even come a meter from Sutcliff again, his hedge clipper death scythe sent the boy riling through the air and landing on his side.

Grell turned, looking into the shadows where the scythe retracted. It had broken Knox's motor.

"What the hell are you two doing out here?" Will asked casually. "Screwing around again?"

"Funny story," Grell replied, looking to Ronald. "He's trying to kill me. Says I'm not a full fledged grim reaper."

"Not true!" Knox exclaimed, running up to Will. "He attacked first and intervened with my soul collection."

Grell scoffed, holding up his cinematic records and the books he had acquired. William already knew the answer, dragging them both back to his office, mentioning the overtime once more.

* * *

Neither of them would talk about the incident, probably for different reasons. So, Will sent Grell to the library, saying that he must return immediately afterwards, otherwise William _would_ find him. From here, he received Ronald's side of the story, which was that Grell intervened on a soul collection, then proceeded to patronize and scrutinize him. Although that seemed like something Sutcliff would normally do (though not to Ronald usually), that just wasn't the case this time. Spears already knew the answers.

This behavior was becoming obscene! Reapers lying about collections, the backstabbing, the heartache, all of it just so that one of them could get closer to the testings. These incidences were so common, he should have seen one such as this coming from miles away. William didn't find any of this logical at all, considering the testing wasn't as great as others made it out to be. It's an incentive for the lower recruits to try and be a part of, but for those like Will and Grell who knew much better, it was just another project. Besides, there were other ways to participate rather than testing the death scythes. Grell only came along because Will was there, and he knew that. It was just that Ronald wasn't ready. He'd just come off of training, and under Grell's jurisdictions nonetheless (although that could have been the reason why they were fighting tonight).

This time though, Grell wasn't being provocative. His death scythe had not been running, nor did he seem to want to fight Ronald at all. Once the kid left, Sutcliff stepped in, knowing he could prove himself to Spears. Knox's efforts were futile.

"Here," Grell said, handing Spears the note. "He forged your signature, trying to get me alone. Not a very bright one, but he definitely has guts." Will read the note, sighing and shaking his head.

"You didn't provoke him?" Spears questioned.

"No of course not! If anything, he came onto me," Grell exclaimed. "I think he's a little jealous of my position." Will adjusted his spectacles.

"Why don't you lay low for a little while?" Spears suggested. "At least until this whole testing date comes around." Grell's eyes shot Will a look of shock and slight disapproval.

"Don't think I can handle it?" he asked, filing his nails and looking away from Will. The black reaper sighed.

"No, it's not that. It's just that ever since we started this business, it's nothing but deceit and nonsense, all for an opportunity we have more than lifetimes to acquire every few years."

"So? It's always been that way. Heh, even we fought over it when we first got out. It was the biggest deal to us," Grell replied.

"But now, it's not," Will warned. "And I don't want to see you on thin ice now. Continue your soul collections quietly and meet me in the library when you're finished."

Grell's eyes widened. "Every night?"

"Yes every night," Will replied, making Grell's face turn slightly pink. "We've much to overview and many manuals to read before we can test any new death scythes."

Grell's full smile had always creeped William out. This time was no different, but Sutcliff looked more determined than ever to follow orders, so he was taking his chance while he had them. This was incentive for Grell to keep low, and Will would almost do anything to keep it that way.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Thankfully, there were no more incidents with Ronald, but the tension was rising, or so was the word around the office. William tried not to pay attention, but there were those days it just couldn't be avoided. Grell's soul collections were again, flawless as usual and he met with Will every night in the library.

The manuscripts were almost burying them alive, but they couldn't and wouldn't let themselves be buried. William went through a few models, and Grell would look over a few.

"This one looks promising," Will handed Grell the executive summary to look it over.

"Hmm, steal hooks, huh? Sure would be nice for corners," Grell said, placing that manuscript into a pile of the death scythes they hypothesized to be the most promising. Some were just god awful, like the model claiming to generate so much wind power, it would literally be sucking the soul and cinematic record out of the person.

Their library hours ran into the early mornings, but they were able to accomplish a lot and with their overtime salaries, Grell was most thankful to have a little extra in his pocket. William typed up a report while Grell filed each death scythe and its model makers into the system for the testing day, reporting on their hypotheses along with their reviews and criticisms.

"Ooo, Will, look at this one!" Grell excitedly handed him the script. "Multiple cartridges."

Will scanned the document, raising his eyebrows, slightly impressed.

"Pocket death scythe..." he pondered. "Holds scissors, two small blades, a dagger, and can even hold a short pad of paper. This isn't exactly made for a pocket, but it may have many uses in a pinch. Good find Sutcliff."

Grell nearly bursted with laughter at few of these designs. "Look, I know it's rude, but you have just got to see where I'm coming from!"

Will smirked too, seeing the design for net catching and soul shredding death scythes, but the most disappointing part of most death scythe designs is that they become too expensive to make and the complications that may arise.

"Wow oh my goodness this one's far ahead of its time!" Grell exclaimed. "It's not even a death scythe."

William took hold. "Hmm...reaper's unframed spectacles." He read over the scripts for it. "Too bad we haven't the technology for this yet. We need to find a material we can place into our eyes first, that's this one's problem. It's an excellent idea to be sure."

"Then you wouldn't have to worry about losing your glasses," Grell teased, leaning over to place his head on Will's shoulder and hanging on him for a little while.

"Haha, very funny."

* * *

Discarding that idea for later, the two kept filing through the stacks William brought in every night.

One night, the library was near to empty, only the librarian working the graveyard shift was at the front desk, awaiting any late or emergency data. William thought this the perfect time.

"Grell..." Will wanted to say something, and it definitely wasn't related to all these manuscripts. The red reaper could hear in Will's voice something was different.

"Hmm?" he asked, looking over and placing the documents back onto the tabletop in front of them. William adjusted his glasses, making no eye contact for now.

"There's something I've been meaning to ask you," he stated ever so blandly. Grell remained silent. Usually, it was either Reaper Sutcliff or some other name, never his first name. It hadn't been like that since the reaper's institute.

"It's actually a matter Reaper Knox was trying to bring to my attention prior to your incident."

"Oh wonderful, what's he saying now?" Grell said, as if waiting to hear the latest gossip. Will swallowed.

"Is it true? Your demeanor, why you changed so dramatically after our final exam. It's like you became an entirely different person. Did you do that because of something I said?" Will asked.

Grell looked down, thinking back to those final glorious days, and they were walking to get themselves proper spectacles! It was so simple back then, just the schoolwork and the schoolwork and the minimal amount of sleep, and the schoolwork again.

"My actions are entirely my own, Will," Grell replied, looking him the eyes, which Will now finally had the courage to meet. "I suppose you did influence me a little. I mean, how could I have possibly resisted you after what you did to me that wondrous evening!"

"So it was me..." Will sighed, attempting to return to the book, but they both knew that was impossible.

"What was you? What has Ronald been telling you?" Grell asked, leaning in.

William closed the book to his left and sighed.

"Knox proposed that you act the way you do because of me, and that I obviously did something to change you into...whatever it is you call yourself. I permitted it wasn't true, possibly due to the fact I did not want to believe something so strange, but after thinking about it, I feared what he said may be true and I suppose it is," William explained.

Grell leaned himself back, taking up a smaller amount of space, shying away with his flaming red hair behind his eyes.

"You don't like it, you never did. There was never any pleasing you. Not that I was an angel by any means. You never liked me, ever. Perhaps I did it to impress you, but there was no impressing William T. Spears. So sophisticated, so organized, wise, and totally dressed to kill. Really Will, suits are _definitely_ your thing." Grell looked up slightly, ceasing to talk as he saw Will's expression, swallowing hard to shut himself up.

Will stared at Grell for a long time and two did not exchange a single word. Grell was internally raging with nerves but Will was simply thinking.

"I told you that only a lady would ever confess such a thing to a man," Will recalled. "I didn't expect you to come this far, but then again I've never thought about it like this before."

"My actions are entirely my own," Grell reclaimed. "You helped me discover myself in ways I would have never figured out otherwise. Despise me? Fine, that's nothing new to me, but you don't. So why do you insist on avoiding me until this time over the years if you can help it?"

"I never hated you," Will said, pushing up his glasses and seeing Grell's head shoot up ever so slightly to convey the shock running through his system. "I don't save your arse from demons because I have to. I'm just...confused."

"Confused?" Grell asked, snatching the next document and glancing at it.

"Greatly," Will replied, looking back down.

"Ugh, you could never be more confused than after reading this," Grell handed him the script with a smirk on his face. The document made absolutely no sense, continuity errors, incorrect citations, spelling errors most noticeable, and the final design was actually two completely different products.

William sighed, smirking a little himself at the atmosphere Grell was trying to create.

"You would be correct, Grell," he said, throwing the script onto the junk pile and writing the title into the rejection list. "Still, why go to such lengths? You're completely erased, I ignore you most of the time so you get into trouble, and so you just keep at it? Why?"

"Oh I already told you that. I could totally fall for a man like you," Grell said proudly. "I swear if you didn't work so much overtime, you'd be quite popular with ladies such as myself."

"If you didn't want me working overtime so much, why are you causing me to have it?" Will asked. Grell smiled, shaking his head.

"Sometimes, I just give up."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Testing day, finally. William woke earlier than usual, thinking about that strange conversation he and Sutcliff had a week ago. The reports submitted, proposals presented, and the citations in order, William T. Spears was ready for this day, more so than ever before. With Grell's devotion in the library and overtime, they were fully prepared to begin testing the new death scythes.

Grell was given the night off of soul collection to meet William. He walked into Will's office, dressed in full black.

"No red?" Will asked, looking up slightly surprised.

"I'd be caught dead before ruining _those_ nice clothes," Grell replied. "Let's go, honey."

The paperwork in his hands as usual, Spears and Sutcliff made their way to the testing grounds, where higher officials were standing by. There were fake cinematic records to collect and dummies to look like humans. Undertaker was also at the event, standing on the sidelines to replace some of the bodies and hand out new death scythes.

At the sound of the bell, Spears and Sutcliff took their first new death scythe and scanned the instructions given to them. Then came time to test it with their target. Some were fairly accurate, some could never miss, and other just didn't seem to work like they were supposed to. Will and Grell were also placed in the same arena to test for close range and far range reaping. Besides, they were both from the London offices, and this was a worldwide event, usually held in London because that was where the first establishment of the Reaper's Association was founded years and years ago.

Each death scythe that passed with an average grade of efficient would move on for further analysis, but there were always plenty that needed work. Grell and WIll gave their feedbacks on separate sheets of paper before turning them in. Being objective was the most difficult part of it all.

"The corner scythe is actually promising," Grell informed Will as they were changing out scythes.

"Hope you don't ever have to wield the new model for hedge clipper scythe. It's too much time to spend on settings," William replied, and they were back out into the arena.

Dummies thrashed, records were "collected" and Undertaker swiftly replaced bodies. By the end of the night, about one third of all the death scythes were thrown out due to incompetencies agreed upon by the majority of branches, such as incorrect soul harvesting invasiveness, too messy of a blow to the chest, or they just were not sharp enough to sustain multiple blows within a time frame. As the last minute reward, Undertaker's death scythe model was brought onto the floor along with the newest model for the years to come. These scythes only came out once or twice every 50 years or so, making this occasion rather special.

Each reaper is given the old model first to reap the remaining dummies and sharpen the blade. From there, the teams of two are sent out reaping for two targets. Then, they will be given the new model and sent out for two more.

Will and Grell smirked at the feel of one of the oldest death scythe models ever made.

"Sure has come a long way, hasn't it?" Undertaker remarked, walking out on the floor.

He wielded his own scythe, which had always remained in his shop for years and years since he retired. He'd become so well known, Undertaker was a grim reaper whose real name need not be said, and to keep his death scythe was the least the association could grant him when he retired from service. Not that it was simply a death scythe to hang on the wall, for every once and a while, Undertaker would come through the libraries and have a few stray souls with him in the process. Sometimes, the job just became part of him.

"Will you be joining us this evening?" William asked, grabbing Grell to tell him to hold up for a few moments. Undertaker tapped his chin with those long black nails for a short while.

"Yes, I think I shall," he replied, signing out of the testing arena for the night. With the soul collections distributed around London (and maps for those who didn't quite memorize the area of their harvesting), the London grim reaper's job was nearly cut 12 times its original size for testing purposes.

The three compared their collections, finding they were along relatively the same streets. Some of natural causes, some of disease, some of suicide. This is what kept them in business...time.

With the legendary models, the work was nearly twice the difficulty but well worth the trouble. Undertaker's laugh sounded throughout the streets, which only Grell and Will seemed to hear from a few blocks away.

"Sutcliff!" Will yelled from atop a roof. Grell had just finished one of the souls, turning to see William having a bit of trouble.

"Issues, my darling?" he asked, hoping onto the rooftop and slicing through a portion of the record. "My my, a troublemaker isn't it?" He landed next to Will.

"I'm not your darling," Will said, taking the rest of his job from there. "It was a poor maiden's soul, dying of heartache and the struggle to live on."

"Suicide then?"

"That's what I thought, until she began to fight. Usually they lose all hope and submit fairly easily, but it almost as though she didn't want to die," Will said. "It's strange."

"People are messy," Undertaker said, holding all his books beneath his left arm, some of them shoved into his massive robe. "Looks like you two are some of the most efficient. Only I could harvest more effectively, none of the others seem to be done just yet."

They returned to the establishment for the new model, but this time, Undertaker stepped down, retiring himself for the night. He wouldn't have himself wield any other scythe. William and Grell grasped the new model.

"My goodness, it's so light!" Grell exclaimed. They exchanged their books for a new list, heading out once more.

"I'm not sure if I like the changed blade," William said. He was right, the new model took more of a crescent moon shape with a lot of curvature to it. It was becoming far more fancy than necessary, but once his first soul was collected, he saw the appeal.

"I rather like the double edge on the bottom," Sutcliff said as he met Will in the back of an alleyway. "Too bad we didn't get to test the pocket scythe out here though. I was rather curious."

Though this model was under constant construction, it was a popular scythe for anniversaries or occasions in which reapers needed to attend ceremonies. They could be used for soul collection as well, but they were of the utmost expensive to continue producing, and until a breakthrough was discovered in their models, this scythe was forever a classical reaper's scythe utilized to identify grim reapers. In William's eyes, it would remain as such.

With the ceremonial reaping complete, that was the end of their shift for tonight and the next few days would be follow up submissions and final reports. As Grell and William parted ways, he couldn't help it.

"Wait, Will," Grell said, making him turn just in time to catch Sutcliff grasping him into a tight hug. This was the red reaper's way of saying thank you...and a clear excuse to get away with hugging William T. Spears.

"Yes, yes, you're welcome," Spears said, waiting for it to be over. Grell released him, sighing and saying his final good night before retreating back to his apartment. William returned to welcome the familiar scent of clean sheets as he lay down to sleep.

Grell however, didn't make it that far...

* * *

"It's my turn."

"What the hell?!"

Completely off guard, and right under his nose. This wasn't good...no, no good at all.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

William T. Spears awoke to his alarm sounding not a moment too late. Another day at the association was about to begin. Coming into work never seemed to be a problem, it was getting out that took forever. Beginning with afternoon meetings and finishing reports all afternoon, it wasn't long before soul collections were flowing into his office on each and every hour.

His lists were throughly checked, and all but one name remained. There was still time, about 40 minutes to be exact. Something was wrong..

"Lisa," William phoned her from her desk at the front. She came through the door, always so timid, handed folded across her delicate form. Lisa was a secretary for him and part time assistant, not that he needed her to do much.

"Reaper Sutcliff, where is he?" Will demanded.

"He never came through the door at all today," she said. "I assumed you knew and he had the day off." She was correct, normally she wouldn't receive any of that information, so how would she know to report such an absence?

A small gasp came from Will. "Not one time? Did he check in?" Lisa shook her head.

"Is something the matter?"

"He was with me last night, but his collections are not in. He hasn't come at all today, are you absolutely sure?"

"Positive Sir," Lisa replied, swallowing. "After all, that red hair of his..." William rose impatiently from his desk, stating he would see her tomorrow and to leave his office lights on. He walked calmly to where others were beginning to store their scythes and paperwork for tomorrow.

He asked countless times about Sutcliff's whereabouts, but no one seemed to have seen him all day.

"Allan," Will addressed, asking him the same thing. "Are you for certain?"

"Of course, I'd know him if I'd seen him," Allan said, gesturing to the door outside multiple times. William took the hint, waiting for Allan to come out.

"Okay, I think it's safe," Allan said. It was obvious, he knew something but there were some things better left unsaid in front of crowds. "Look, you may want to check with Knox. He was actin' pretty funny when he came in this morning. He was god awful looking, said he didn't get enough sleep."

"You think he had something to do with Sutcliff's transparency?" Will asked.

"Worth a check. He just never acted so touchy and angry before," Allan said. "You know, he's usually chipper like one of those squirrels. He seemed pushed over the edge somehow." William knew to check for all sides of the story. All reapers had bad days. Bottom line tonight was though, they were now short an entire collection for the night. There were no books to speak of, and Sutcliff was never passed his shift if he could help it.

Spears knew Sutcliff's tendency to screw off, but someone could confirm this circumstance. Today, he was simply no where to be found. Will's only lead was Knox.

"Reaper Knox," Spear's greeted, just as the blond reaper was leaving for the night. "May I have a word?"

"I really need to get going," Knox said, knowing it was well passed his shift and Spears couldn't keep him.

"Have you seen Sutcliff?"

"No I haven't," Knox said quickly and he made his exit. Will followed, trying to get anything out of him, but he seemed to be in quite the rush, explaining he had plans with a girl tonight. Spears sighed, apologizing for keeping him and found himself alone on the streets of London.

He walked for a few miles, thinking about where in the world that red reaper could be. He checked in with the Phantomhive manner, answering to the butler Sebastian.

"Not recently I'm happy to report," Sebastian told Will. "You really should keep an eye on your minions." Normally, Will would never sink to such lows, but if a reaper was neglecting his duty or something was seriously wrong, Will needed to get to the bottom of it all before it was just too late.

There were times when this job was too much to handle, even with the extended pay. Spears walked to his apartment, giving up on Sutcliff for the night, figuring the reaper would have one hell of an explanation. On his doorway, he spotted a note.

_Sorry I seemed to have missed you. Come by the shop. You have a reaper in horrible shape. It's most unsightly._

_~The Undertaker_


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

The pounding would never be out of his head, not for a few days that is. Undertaker was enjoying his evening snooze when banging clattered through his head, and once he realized it was someone at the door, it could only be one person at this time of night. Unlatching the door, Undertaker poked his head outside.

"Your door is most inefficient," Will remarked distinctly. "You have him?"

"That I do," Undertaker let Will inside, offering tea, but Spears was not interested.

"He's asleep for now. I had to put him down after what _he_ looked like," Undertaker noted, opening a casket to reveal Grell Sutcliff, not breathing and stripped to nothing but a few layers of thin cloth. "His clothes are over there."

Will stared for a few moment, aghast at the sight. Sutcliff had stitchings all along the left side of his face, a newly set right arm, cuts, markings, bruises and what seemed to be an infected neck injury.

"Where was he?" Spears asked.

"You seem quite concerned," Undertaker noted. There was never room for emotion in a job, but he was off the clock now. "I found him in one of them run off sites. I happened to be looking for a few things and he was just lying there, all peaceful like. I knew he was one of yours, else I'd have collected his soul myself."

Will bent over, leaning to look at Grell and asking if there were any other horrid injuries. Undertaker lifted the middle section, exposing more wounds and cuts.

"It's like he was run over or cut into a million pieces," Undertaker noted.

"What happened to you?" Will asked to no one, knowing full well Grell would not respond.

He thought he knew what had happened. Knox had gotten a hold of him. But why? Knox was always so carefree, almost too carefree. He complained a lot and almost never took well to overtime, but he was never vengeful. Sometimes he said Grell and Will had the easier job, but never once had Knox gone this far. Rationally, this did not make any sense, yet somehow in Will's mind he was perfectly all right with accepting this as fact without evidence, although it was nearly strictly in his mind against such an approach. Well, Grell was going to be awake any time soon to tell him the full story.

"I'll leave you two lovebirds alone," Undertaker said, walking back to his desk. William gave him a look of high disapproval, but he was in no mood to argue. His emotion was taking control, but he wouldn't let that happen for long. He sighed a few times, looked at Grell's pathetic body lying there, and he slowly cleared his mind away.

"This must be addressed. I want to know who did this and why," William said, turning to the bounder. "Do you know anything else besides where you found him?"

Undertaker looked up for a few moments.

"His blood had a stench most peculiar and he was barely alive, unable to speak when I got hold of him. Miserable old thing he was," Undertaker said. "Didn't tell me anything as I wrapped him up. He'd given up by then I'm sure."

Sutcliff succumb to pain? That seemed to be a first.

"When will he wake up?" Will asked.

"In a few hours, maybe less. I didn't give him that much."

"Do my a kind favor and help me move him," William requested. Undertaker took this chance to rid himself of the red reaper taking up space in his lovely coffin. The two transferred Sutcliff to William's apartment where he paid off Undertaker, who almost declined the cash. Spears insisted and made sure Grell was sprawled along his bedsheets.

For tonight, Will vowed to take the sofa. He caught himself three hours of sleep before waking up to check on Grell, who was still sound asleep as well. William took it three hours at a time until he'd woken up for the third time. Sutcliff was breathing again, so his system was responding to the pain to be sure. Spears phoned the office, explaining he would not be in until later today to view the cinematic records and file them away to the library. After hanging up with Lisa, Spears yawned and tried to do as much paperwork as he could from home.

A few of his correspondents were ever so nice as to deliver him work, a few of them inquiring about him working from home today. William never indulged them, but by around three in the afternoon, he was beginning to worry about Grell. Maybe Undertaker had given him more than previously thought?

Spears had left a clipboard in his room with the simple instruction to write down whatever Grell could remember.

* * *

"What the hell?"

William's head jerked up, focusing intently on the next room. He stood and let himself in.

"You're awake," he greeted. Grell turned to meet his gaze, slightly surprised.

"Will..." he said, still coming out of it but he was caught speechless.

"What do you remember?" the black reaper sat next to Grell, looking closely into his eyes where the red reaper avoided eye contact after a matter of seconds, remaining silent as a few minutes tic tocked on by.

"Grell," Will tried again, this time placing his hand on Grell's left arm where he focused his new gaze. "I need to know what happened."

"I'm trying okay?" Grell snapped, closing his eyes. "I remember...being ambushed, the night after our soul collection together. I remember saying good night and being attacked. There was a motor running, I know that, and I tried to defend myself. He was too quick."

"He?" Spears questioned.

"Of yes, most definitely a male," Grell affirmed. "I cut him."

"Where?"

"I don't remember, but I did slice into his clothes."

"What did he look like?"

"Standard reaper clothing, but I couldn't say that I know for sure. Covered in black, might have worn a tie, I don't know. How did I get here?" Grell asked, looking up at Will.

"Undertaker found you lying in run off," Will replied. Grell cringed, but it was then he felt a pain in his face.

"What the-" he grasped a mirror. "What happened to my face!"

"I don't know," Will sighed. "but Undertaker fixed it. Please try to focus, Grell." The red reaper continuously stroked the stitching, a look on his face almost unrecognizable.

"A knife," he said slowly. "He...he beat me...with a knife." He put his hand down, but Will wouldn't push him anymore. Grell got a look at all the injury he sustained. "He just kept coming, but after a while, he just...stopped and kicked me over somewhere. I can't remember after that." He looked at his hands.

"I was bound," he held his wrists up. "There was no defense after he'd thrown me to the ground. Ow."

His wounds were started to pulse and he leaned back, wanting to fall back asleep. Will set the paper aside, seeing as though Grell couldn't write anyway since he was right handed. He looked straight at Will.

"Does it look hideous?" he asked, touching the stitching again. Will's head turned slightly in confusion. Grell was still looking at him with these eyes just full of hurt and anguish. Glancing over Grell, Will knew he looked like roadkill, but that wasn't what Sutcliff needed to hear.

"No," Will replied, looking right into those green eyes. He took off Grell's glasses, setting them aside on the table next to the bed.

"Will!" Grell exclaimed, grasping his free arm to the reaper's wrist. There were tears streaming down his face. "Please...stay." Will sighed, giving in just this once. Grell was alive and talking. He might remember some more later and at the moment, Will couldn't jeopardize information to Grell's requests.

He sat on the bedside taking Sutcliff's hand off of his wrist.

"It just hurts, so much," he said. "I just wanted it to be over." His hand went limp.

"No harm will come to you here," Will said. "Now, get some rest."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

The red reaper began to toss and turn a little in this sleep. Will had brought his work into the bedroom, where he sat in a chair, observing Grell for the past few hours. It looked like a never-ending bad dream. Gently, when he could take no more, Spears shook Grell.

"No! Stop, please. Not my-" Grell's eyes shot open, and he remembered vividly what he had been dreaming and the fact he'd been yelling out his words.

"Face..." he brought his hand up, grabbed the mirror, and looked at himself again. He unraveled the bandage around his right arm and with one crack, he was able to move it without much hesitation. Reapers could heal faster than humans, that much was certain, and with the bone set, all it took was his final cracking to release the healed pressure. Now, it was just sore.

"Did you see anything else?" Will asked, not addressing Sutcliff's random outburst.

"An engine maybe and a long blade," Grell sighed, more tears running down his face from before and some new. He stared into nothing. "That's all that's there, but the knife was long."

"Grell," Will said, sitting next to him. "I'm sorry." The red reaper swallowed, pulling Will down onto the bed with him.

"Sutcliff, what are you-"

"It feels better," Grell interrupted, leaning onto him. "At least I'm no longer alone."

Sears sighed, adjusting for comfort by placing one of his arms around Sutcliff's back as gently as he could, and he already felt Grell's tears seeping through his collar shirt he'd previously changed into. With his right arm straight above and left across Will's chest, both bodies could feel as Grell began to relax more from the dream.

William didn't know Grell could be affected so easily by one ambush. Something more must have happened. This wasn't like him at all. There was something tormenting him, and he couldn't cease the dreaming after he'd begun to breathe in his sleep. Dreams are uncommon, however some reapers may dream if they stay breathing long enough in their sleep to remember.

He still couldn't understand. Grell was alone the moment he came to be a reaper, and this fact never upset him so much before. Spears comprehended that Grell was just using this as an excuse to get close, that sounded more like him. Still, Spears couldn't help but note the way Grell latched onto him. If there was one aspect of the Grim Reapers that could ever resonate with humans, it would be the ability to draw emotion. Most of the time, Spears avoided his because he could and it was part of his job, but Sutcliff thrived upon emotion. It was the way he existed on the earth, reacting to the things around him.

Differences were everywhere on this red reaper today, but there was something eccentric about all this. Spears finally got the answer looking at Grell's fingernails. Not only were they cracked, chipped, and one was split, but there was blood stained all across the inside. Staring at them some more, this told William many things. First of all, Grell had no weapon to defend himself. If he did, that weapon was taken from him so he was forced to resort to fingernails and teeth. Second, Sutcliff had succeeded in drawing some blood from the attacker, enough to have it under his nails.

Too bad there was no way to match the blood patterns. He needed to find the assailant to match the wounds. Even so, Grell would need to remember more than just engines and knives. If there was just one piece of the fight that allowed him to escape, Will would be in much better shape.

But finally, William had to take this into account. The nails Sutcliff had always maintained have just gone to ruin. He was desperate. Grell said he was tied, so it was also possible the blood could be his own if he tried to get out of bondage. Either way, there was no rope in sight anymore. Part of his mind had convinced him that Grell doesn't want to remember this, and so the memory was being pushed as deep as he could get it to be buried. Humans performed a similar task but only after a serious event. At least no one was drunk.

Once Grell was finally asleep, Spears reached for the phone and requested every profile page of every reaper in his division. He needed to be sure one of his was not responsible for this. Knowing it was possible anyone could get a hold of a knife, he needed to focus on the engine part of Grell's recollections.

Quietly, Spears released the red reaper's hold of him to answer the door, where he specifically requested that Lisa not make a sound upon her arrival.

"Here," she said, handing him a large stack of papers and in the other bag she'd brought with her contained each death scythe and their registrations of authorization. He thanked her for her contribution, stating he could not discuss the matter in which he needed these profiles.

"They will be returned by tomorrow afternoon," Will said before closing the door. He returned to the room, thinking about climbing back into the bed where Grell was now fast asleep. Deciding against it, he simply began with each reaper under his division who owned a death scythe with a motor attached to it.

Knowing fully well this weapon may not be authorized, Spears was prepared for overtime, as usual. With Grell like this, he wasn't sure when the reaper would be returning for soul collections and his own had to be halted as well now. Other reapers were notified of the temporary overtime hours, which he also knew a few would not respond well too, especially Knox.

After half of the profiles had been scanned and some deleted off the suspect list because of death scythe style, William had climbed back into bed where he was growing quite tired himself. Lazily, an arm came to wrap around his form. Grell had woken and was already hanging on him.

"What are you doing?" he asked sleepily, leaning onto Will's shoulder.

"Finding out who the hell did this to you," Spears replied casually. "If it was another reaper, sanctions must be issued, and I will not be taking this lightly." Grell looked up at him.

"Will?" he asked. "Why are you doing this for me?"

"It is my job as your manager to make sure you don't get yourself killed."

"I was off the clock wasn't I?" Grell mentioned. "So, you wouldn't have to do this."

What the red reaper said was partially true. It was an outside of work experience, be that as it may a bad one. Technically, Spears had nothing to do with this, yet here he was, Grell in his bed, next to him as he read through profiles and death scythe models.

His left arm came around Grell as he set the next profile aside into the pile dictating that this person was highly unlikely to have committed this heinous act.

"You may do some things that are personally annoying and get yourself into trouble, but this was not your fault, and without knowing who attacked you, I cannot risk you returning to work," William explained. "Your attempted assassin might be just around the corner."

"So...you bring me here?"

"Like I'd trust anyone else to keep an eye on you," Will replied. Grell came in closer.

"It will get better," Will said.

"Is that a promise?"

"Yes. Most importantly, it's certainty."

Sutcliff let a tear fall from the corner of his eye, allowing it to land on William's collar shirt. Another fell, and he was just letting it go.

"Will..." Grell was near to choking on his own tears while the black reaper simply stared at another profile page. "Don't leave me."

He glanced to see Sutcliff drenching the side of his sleeve, and whenever he blinked, more fluid drained from his eyes. Luckily, he wasn't wearing his spectacles. Just like Sutcliff to get all emotional on him. Sighing, Will could not believe he was having this tonight, or ever for that matter.

There was emotion within William T. Spears, and it was beginning to awaken after years of being caged in his chest. It began as a procedure for Grell's protection by the agency he had to fulfill, but inside, Spears knew this was Ronald's doing. Knox was never one for overtime, and Grell's crafty work normally landed others in that exact position. But giving Knox all that overtime wasn't good for his mood. In addition to Grell's attendance at the testing ceremony, Knox couldn't have been too happy at all. Knowing the red reaper's weaknesses wasn't very difficult, he exploited them often quite frankly.

Spears never had a problem with Ronald, except his rushing through work and sloppy reports and non-existent progress. Never was there an issue with another reaper to a magnitude such as this. Knox didn't seem like the type to try to kill another reaper. Everyone had the capacity, Spears supposed, and whatever he did to Grell, it was literally haunting him.

Grell had never been so shaken.

"Grell," Will said. "Did he...do anything else to you? Your attacker?"

Sutcliff's eyes averted the instant Will met them, and he didn't say anything.

"Grell..." Will prompted. "I need to know. Is there anything else you remember?"

Sutcliff got out of the bed, staring at the floor. Slowly, he took off the red jacket and began to unbutton his vest.

"What are you doing Sutcliff?"

Grell remained silent as he continued to strip himself of his vest and undershirt. He exposed upon his body the cuts of the blades, each one healing over. Unexpectedly, Sutcliff also dropped his black dress pants and socks. There were cuts along his legs too, and to Will's utmost surprise, the rumor around the office was true. Grell did in fact shave his legs.

But that close shave made the wounds all the more notable.

"Why are there bruises along your thigh?" Will questioned as Grell stood there in silence, complete silence. His hands and body began to shake as Will was starting to catch on.

William stood up, setting the profile promptly aside to take a better look at this red reaper. Grell was tortured, and what was more, if the attacker made that many wounds, they were either highly inexperienced or the intent William previously thought was wrong. A Grim Reaper certainly knows how to kill, so there was only one other option.

"He didn't want to kill you at all," Spears said, placing his hand upon the largest bruise along Grell's right leg. A tear droplet hit his hand. "He tortured you."

"A game, to see how long I'd last," Grell said. Will's head shot up from the wound, looking up at Grell. New information, but the red reaper was already shaking pretty badly. "I was afraid he was going to-"

Will stood up, properly and hastily, grasping Grell into his chest. He recognized the amount of trust Grell was displaying and according to humans in which he observed over the years, hugs were the best for when others became upset.

"He let you go," Will said. "He didn't want to kill you, but you identify him as a man. That's good. Very good."

"I couldn't even see him!" Grell exclaimed, weakening in the knees and nearly collapsing. One of his leg wounds split open, spilling hot liquid to trickle down the rest of the leg.

"There was no escaping that place."

"You're tired...oh my," Will noticed the blood when he looked back down Grell's legs.

He sat the reaper down and grabbed a towel to wipe off the leg. He wrapped it to stop the bleeding and let Sutcliff lay back on the bed. He took his files and took out every female reaper's profile. That left about 75% of the reaper population in the London division. Given those which he already divided, Spears was down to the last 15 reapers to review.

Thus far, 20 suspects including Ronald Knox and the rest could make sense. There were not many reapers with motor powered death scythes or at least what is registered to them. Grell's attacker would have used a death scythe to try and kill him if that's what he was after, and that was all of what reapers had access to as far as motorized objects. Death scythes were the most advanced, and the cuts on Grell were definitely from a finely sharpened blade.

Sobbing beside him the rest of the process, Grell refused to let Will go under any circumstance. Spears set his list to the side, worrying about it tomorrow for now. William found himself not only frustrated but angry. His chest was aching with a burning fire that wasn't calming down. If one of his reapers had done this, especially the one he was thinking of at the moment, he wasn't sure what he would do. However, he was not angry with Grell for sobbing all night, and his rather annoying way of trying to hold in the emotion that so clearly defined him. He was angry with whomever did this, for what happened to Grell in the first place.

Undertaker found the reaper in a run off for heaven's sake! He'd been deliberately tortured, left to flee for his life, and then ended up in run off, lying there in his own blood and sweat, left for dead. Death was not known to any reaper, for they could not die except by special circumstances and critical blows. If there was no death for Sutcliff, he was thus forced to lie in pain, worthless and most of all helpless. A pain apparently so unbearable Undertaker had to put Grell to sleep before the reaper passed out himself.

William wiped the tears from Grell's face along the stitched markings of his face.

"Does it hurt?" he asked. The reaper looked up, taking a break from the tears and allowing himself to cease and let out a few deep breaths. Spears' hand graced across the mark, feeling how it was glossed with salty tears.

"Not when _you_ touch it."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

William T. Spears could finally hear nothing but the silence of the night and feel Grell's body as it was still breathing beside him. The reaper had to heal and that required oxygen and hoping for no more night terrors. Sighing to reset himself, the manager left the majority of the files untouched. He was only interested in 23 of the files after looking at all of them.

Blowing out the candlelight, he was surprised to find the full moon's whitening shimmer raining into the room. The light hit the bedspread through the window, resting on the face of the reaper beside him. Will brushed a portion of Grell's flaming hair from his forehead. That red hair of his...it was covering a portion of the stitched gash along Grell's face. A slight glimmer was upon his flesh as the tears were finally drying on his face. Excellent, now he would complain about his image the instant he returned to work.

What would he be doing about that now? Spears certainly couldn't avoid work altogether, but there were reapers under suspect. There were very few options. Grell would need Will's watchful eye all day, at least until he could review those 23 reapers carefully. With one less reaper, two to be precis, that was going to make for a few unhappy coworkers.

Not necessarily, Will thought to himself. He would make this work.

* * *

"Overtime? No way, I don't do that," Knox was behaving as expected. Will was at his desk, finishing last month's reports and waiting for the To Die list to emerge for the next week of reaping so he could distribute them.

"The current case is being thoroughly investigated and will be solved as soon as possible," Spears reassured him. "Until then, we are all expected to take on a little extra."

"Because Grell can't get over himself?" Knox spat. Will's glare dared him to continue challenging authority, which Knox brushed off.

"Look, I'm not taking any overtime. It's not what I do. I got parties to attend and you can't make me," Knox said, and at the door he turned. "Where is the flame today?"

"That is none of your concern," Will was writing out feedback slips for the collections and reports. Knox scoffed again, taking a dramatic exit.

Spears sighed, happy to see Alan walk into his office that afternoon with the To Die list. In exchange, Will granted him early feedback and a note for Lisa out front.

"Where's Grell?" Alan asked.

"The one time he's no where in sight and everyone wants him back," Will sighed. Alan smirked.

"Rumor has it he's got it out for him."

"Oh, and why would that be?" Will asked, pushing up his glasses. Alan turned around.

"We all heard he was attacked," Alan replied. "Whoever did it isn't up for shits and giggles."

"Anyone come to mind, Alan?" Will asked, placing his pen down. Alan's eyebrows shot up.

"No, not really. It's just not something you hear everyday."

He took his exit, as Will had nothing further to offer him. With privacy given to him, Spears took out the files and started with the one on top. Each was inspected for the type of motorized death scythe he/she was authorized, next for whereabouts as to the night of the attack, when they punched into work, when they punched out, and finally, William needed to search for motives.

Finding a reaper without a motive to get rid of Grell, that might take some work to get through without being sarcastic. Will paced around his office, stirring up some commotion from the walk in closet.

"Either you're pacing or I'm hearing ticking noises."

The door was opened, but that was all right, no one else was around.

"Keep down. How's organizing?" Will said.

"Horrid," Grell said. "Why haven't you ever kept to this? It's not like you to be unorganized."

William had made Grell stay in the closet all day today, because in that closet was a mess full of papers, office supplies, and even old scythe blades.

"It was never my closet," Will said. "I've never had use for it. Whoever used it last obviously couldn't keep anything straight."

"You don't even know whose office this was? It's been here since you started working here and you never bothered with it?" Grell exclaimed.

"Never needed to. What's in there anyway?"

"Oo, actually some pretty good stuff," Grell said, letting Will know he had succeeded in getting the red reaper off track. He brought out a pile of papers, revealing them to be old reports about some of the employees at the Reaper's Association. For the sake of a few minutes' downtime, he looked at the old papers, finding his name and Alan's in a few of the documents.

Grell also brought out the old blades, some of them rusted out, and found a few spare death scythes in the very back. It was like jumping into the past, however messy it was. Grell had done some organizing in there, placing all the papers in one place, blades in another, and supplies accordingly. The old desk in there seemed to be falling apart with each passing minute.

Spears allowed Grell to finally catch some air besides the crack through the closet door, which brought him to bringing out a few things to set down. As he browsed through the files, he informed Sutcliff they would go on a reaping tonight along with everyone else.

"You mean, together?" he asked.

"Yes," Will informed him. "There is no other way until I confirm no one in this division is responsible for what happened." Grell nodded, continuing to focus on his what little was in front of him. He placed all the old papers in one spot, near a chair across Will's desk. Everything in that closet seemed to be a surprise. There was something for anyone and quite possibly everyone in that walk in storage closet.

"Hey, unused paper," Grell brought out a box full of it. "For the typewriter."

"Huh."

Looking up, there were spider webs everywhere, but it seemed even they had died off in here. It was a dry place after all, and there couldn't have been much to feed on. It was sealed pretty good too, so the corpses of spiders and unhatched larva were everywhere. That said something about the closet for sure.

William couldn't bring himself to ask, but he couldn't help but note the way Grell was acting. His hair always covered the stitchings, probably out of shame. But, it was only he in the office with Grell, so why was there a need to hide it? Will knew it was there. Sutcliff had just finished cleaning off the old desk when Knox came bursting through the door.

"Who's on my list tonight?" he asked, staring right at Will as the reaper pushed up his spectacles.

"You will find out like everyone else this evening. I will hand out the lists in an hour," Will replied. Knox turned his head, giving Grell time to hide back in the closet and close the door just enough.

"Whoa!" Knox looked at all the stuff spread out around the office. "What's this?"

"Just some organizing I've been pushing aside," William replied. "You may leave my office now."

"No, you're far too busy for this," Knox said, walking around. Grell watched through the crack, wanting to knock Knox straight out of the association. At the same time, he was afraid Knox might open the door, so he grasped the blades he'd just returned to the corner of the closet only to realize he was already slightly shaken.

Knox approached the door. "What's in here anyway?" Against Will's advice, he opened the door to find Grell standing to face him.

"I guess I should say, _who's_ in here," Knox said, smirking. "Hey Grell." The red reaper said nothing. He turned his back to prevent the reaper from seeing him fully.

"Heard you went through quite the shithole," Ronald said. "But it looks like you got out just fine. What's with the overtime then, huh?"

"Oh shut it," Grell replied.

"Reaper Knox, please leave," William approached them.

"What? Just makin' conversation," Ronald said. "Playin' around a little. Never hurt anyone right?"

William stared until the idea came to him.

"Reaper Knox, where were you on the night of the reaper's ceremony and during the testing?" Will asked. Knox shrugged, explaining a party that night as usual. Spears asked for others who where at this party, which got him a few names. Grell remained silent, knowing better than to speak, but it seemed Ronald had an alibi all his own.

"Find Byron and send him in, would you?" Will requested. Knox left to fulfill his request. Will suggested that Grell remain in his office in case anything looked or sounded familiar, even though he knew it wasn't a memory Grell wanted to recall. As he organized the now empty closet with his back turned, Grell realized what Will was doing.

He called for a few reapers, but Grell lost count after the 10th one, then asking for another, simply asking where they were on the night Grell was attacked. After each one was questioned, he sent them to get someone else, acting as though he'd forgotten to ask the next reaper something from before. Using this process allowed for Spears to complete his work by making reapers come to him and distribute the To Die lists that evening and within the hour he was supposed to have them. Each reaper that come through to collect them went either off the clock or came in on it for the nightshift.

It was then that Will had gotten through all 23 reapers he needed to, writing down each alibi and even trying to confirm a few that were previously mentioned. He'd been so organized, there were already a few inconsistencies showing up. The closet was done and Grell had been sitting in the office, waiting for Will to get ready.

"All right, Grell, it's Saturday night," he said, standing. "Let's go."

Yes, Saturday he viewed cinematic records.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

A good night of reaping seemed to be exactly what Spears required after all the mess going on around the office the past few days. He and Sutcliff took on the work together, proving more efficient and faster. However, they both knew it wouldn't be this way forever and that the position was only temporary due to circumstance.

"Good to see you're still capable of reaping," William said as they finished up around the block, ready to return home.

"Of course I can," Sutcliff said. "I'm just more exhausted and will complain about overtime if I get any more."

"At least you have reason to complain," William replied.

* * *

Grell yawned, climbing into bed that night as Will sat at his desk with more case files and reviewed his notes. Grell found himself struggling to fall asleep but he did appreciate the open window tonight as he was beginning to sweat more often as his stitched face was beginning to heal itself well.

"Will," Grell said rather softly, pulling the covers up to his chest as though he were nervous.

"Yes?" the black reaper asked, still staring at the files and cross referencing and note taking more questions.

"I should probably mention something," he began. "When I escaped, it wasn't because he let me. I untied myself with the scissors that was in my pocket, the last time you demoted me..."

Will turned around, ceasing Grell's speech momentarily.

"Keep going," Will said.

"Um, anyway I cut the ropes. He said he'd be right back. I jumped through a window, cutting myself on a piece of loose glass after I'd opened it. While I was running, I didn't know where I was going and when I heard the voice...his voice, I tried to run even faster. I hid beneath a bridge, completely out of breath but he was looking for me, I knew it. I think I fell asleep or fainted into the river and washed up in the runoff. The next thing I remembered was waking up in Undertaker's shop."

"Hmm," Will said. "You remember this? Are you absolutely certain?"

"I thought it over tonight as we crossed the Thames to get to the east end," Grell said, clutching. "I'm sorry for not telling you sooner."

"So, he wanted to kill you?" Will asked.

"I thought so, but maybe not. Like you said, he wouldn't have done such a frightful job if that was his initial plan."

William thought the attacker would know the consequences of killing a divine being like a Grim Reaper. This would mean that the attacker was not human, which seemed to be confirmed now. The attacker wanted Grell to suffer, that was for sure, else Sutcliff wouldn't have returned in the first place.

"Did you have a weapon other than those scissors?" Will asked.

"No. Why would I bring my death scythe to the convention?" the red reaper said.

"Do you remember anything else that happened?

"Not much, no. Then again, I really wouldn't want to remember it anyway."

"You didn't see your attacker? How did he manage that?"

"By ambushing me from behind, slicing into my back and knocking me out briefly," Grell answered.

"Ah, so you remember that," Will said. "But I suppose since you were knocked out you wouldn't know how you got to wherever it was you were held. How does anyone sneak up on _you_?"

"I was thinking about, other things. I wasn't focused, so I guess that's my fault. I had no weapon, the man must've known that, and there were no other witnesses in sight," Grell explained.

"Then your attacker is definitely another reaper. No one else would have known of your disarmament," Will said, looking at his files. He was down to five reapers who could have done this based on faulty or strange alibis that are either unconfirmed or could not be (because they were alone).

"Can we talk about something else now? I just wanted to tell you that story," Grell said sheepishly, pulling the covers up farther. Will suspected he was just uncomfortable with the subject still. Spears put down his pen and got up to change into some proper night clothes. When it seemed as though he were going back to work, Grell felt the need to stop him.

"Will, darling," Grell said. "Aren't you coming to bed? It's almost past midnight!"

He glancing at the clock as though he didn't believe Sutcliff about the time.

"I'm not your-" Will's eyes met Grell's before he could finish the sentence. Sighing, he climbed into bed, nearly unable to process that he was spending another night sharing a bed with Grell Sutcliff.

He thought tonight, he could sleep on his own side of the bed, but like Grell, he too began having trouble falling asleep.

"What is with us tonight?" Grell asked aloud. "Oh come on now, Will. I know you're not sleeping either." Will turned.

"I don't know." Grell sat up in bed, grabbing the hand mirror and lighting a candle.

"What are you doing?" Will asked.

"Trying to take these out. They're annoying me to death and they stand out very distastefully!" Grell replied. Will sighed, turning himself fully around and watching as Sutcliff failed to take them out, nearly hurting himself and reopening the wound in the process.

"It's a job for two hands, not one," Will spoke up, putting his spectacles back on so he could see properly as Sutcliff already had. He positioned himself closer to Grell, reaching for a pair of small scissors he'd always kept in the nightstand beside him.

"Take off your spectacles," Will ordered. Since the wound covered most of his face on the left side, the glasses would only get in the way. Grell was thankful to be near-sighted so he could at least make out William as he came closer to his face.

Taking a deep breath, Will told Grell to remain perfectly still. The reaper even closed his eyes to ensure not a single blink would screw Spears up. After making the first snip, the others seemed easy. He slowly took out the threads as they came into his fingertips. Grell did not wince even once.

"Seriously you two?"

That voice was unknown to the room, and it caused Will to slip and pull a string too hard, and blood rushed down Grell's face. However, Grell was too busy getting behind Spears as he grasped his death scythe.

"Honestly, making things so much harder for me."

"You've the nerve to break into my apartment then I see," William said.

"And I didn't expect to find you and Sutcliff sharing a bed. I didn't think you swung _that_ way Spears," the voice replied.

William shot his scythe at the reaper's feet, revealing a clanking sound, but the reaper was faster than that. The room was dark besides the spot of light they'd been using to remove Grell's stitches, but the intruder snuffed the light. Grell couldn't see a damn thing, hoping William wouldn't loose his glasses.

"Ah!" The reaper snatched Grell from behind on the other side of the bed, but Will grasped Sutcliff's hand just in time. "Get off of me!" He kicked behind, but that did no good. Will tried another shot. Futile.

"I told you I'd be back soon." Grell's grip slipped and Will was no longer in contact. The intruder, another reaper obviously, had complete control of Grell now. He took to the window, and Will saw a blood spatter from the light of the window. Sutcliff's cry followed. That pain must've been almost bearable.

"No you don't," Will shot for the intruder's head with the scissors as Grell cried out for Will to save him. This time, he did not miss, and as Grell kicked himself away, the reaper was flown into the window, shattering the glass. William felt Grell crashing against him, head first. Will shoved Grell aside, noticing their unknown reaper was trying to escape from the broken glass.

"You dare infest my home, you rotten scum? Who the hell are you?" Will grabbed the intruder and spun him around, seeing he had also gotten a hold of his documents. His grip was unforgiving as he held the reaper by the collar, pushing his throat with his other free hand against the shards of glass, letting the moonlight show upon the reaper's face.

Will gasped.

"Reaper Knox?" he asked. "Why the hell are you here?"

"I'd be stupid to hide it anymore," Knox said, choking on himself in Will's grasp.

"It _was _you," Grell exclaimed. "But, why? Why would you do such a thing? Surely I wasn't that horrible to you!"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Will was angry, and that could never be a good sign. "You attacked another Reaper, attempted to kill him twice now, and you have the guts to come barging in here?"

Knox choked. "As I said..." He was looking straight at Grell. "You are not a worthy Shinigami."

"Shut up!" Will exclaimed. "You honestly thought you could beat me?" Spears smashed Knox's head against the glass again, sending him to the floor, weakened severely from the blow.

Spears stood over Knox in utter shock. Knox was always a laid back grim reaper. He was angry at being in the shadows sometimes, but he never went this far to enact a personal affair with another reaper. Once Will rationalized again, he collected himself, seeing Grell with cloth to his face. It wouldn't stop bleeding. With Reaper Knox on the floor, Will went into the other room, leaving Sutcliff in his state of shock for a few moments to look at his attacker, riling on the floor as he had done to him.

"Grell, lay down. Now," Will commanded. "Leave him. We'll deal with it later."

Grell leaned back and Will slowly took away the cloth.

"You can't lose anymore blood at this rate. I apologize if this hurts," he then stuck the needle into Grell's face while telling him to remain as still as he possibly could. Sutcliff gasped at a few points during Will's stitching, but that was to be expected at the very minimum of the situation.

After 15 minutes, Will had successfully stitched Grell's wound, the very same he'd been removing stitches for prior to this incident. He then looked at Knox.

"What are we going to do?" Grell asked.

"Well, he's the one who did it. We're taking him to Undertaker's," Will said. "Can you walk?"

"I'll try. Can't I just stay home?" Grell complained.

"No I cannot have that," Spears replied. He reached for his phone, calling Undertaker's establishment to explain his situation.

Hanging up, he explained that the Undertaker himself would be here with a carriage in a matter of an hour, with a coffin to spare for Knox until they discussed what to do with him.

"I, can't believe it was him," Grell said after a deep breath. "I just thought, he was angry with me for a little while. Nothing new."

"This isn't like him at all, I agree," Will replied. "But either way, sanctions must be issued. He must learn never to challenge me again like this. Coming here was a most massive error." Spears looked to see Grell, no longer saying anything, completely shut up by the situation and his blood all over the sheets and his own face.

Grell didn't care who did this to him, the fact still remained that damage had been done. Just what he needed, another ambush to remember. Spears sighed again, getting Grell out of bed.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

"Don't worry, he's out cold for now," Will said, but Grell said nothing; he just walked out into the living room where he sat back down, staring at the floor. Spears closed his broken window that seemed just another thing that needed to be done. He took Knox and set him on the floor, wondering if anyone put him up to this or if he acted on his own.

Knox just didn't understand the structure of the society quite yet. After only a few months of being off of supervision, he really wasn't handling the pressure too well. William thought that was the driving motivation. Knox probably believed he deserved better than what his position currently entailed, however Spears placed him where he was for a reason, and that reason was William knew Knox couldn't handle anything higher.

After all, parties don't necessarily improve Grim Reaper skills at all, except perhaps socialization. The bottom line was though, Knox didn't handle pressure well, and overtime was pressure. Performing and perhaps feeling he had to outperform was probably even more pressure, more than he could take for much longer. Usually, the mentioning of Grell's job was enough to get him to say something about higher positions being easier. Sutcliff even kept an eye on Ronald occasionally before he was taken off his trainee position. Maybe Grell fired him up too much? Nah, Knox didn't usually hold a grudge, he just rushed through things.

"He took his time with this," Will said. "Much more time than he has probably on anything else. Still, he rushed, and he was too hasty. You can be grateful for that."

Grell remained silent, still staring into nothing.

"Now that he knows he cannot beat me, I doubt this will happen again," William said as there was a knock on the door to reveal Undertaker, stating that the carriage awaited them outside. Spears took Knox and gave him to Undertaker to shove into the coffin Will has asked him to bring. It was to make sure Ronald stayed in place on the ride over.

Kneeling to Grell, Spears lifted his chin up.

"Come Grell," he said, getting the reaper to stand on his own two feet and shuffle to the carriage. Spears suspected Sutcliff was merely in shock, thus explaining his lack of speech this evening.

"My my, you're going to have quite the story on your hands, aren't you Mr. Spears?" Undertaker said with a smile and a short giggle as he mounted the driver's seat. "Hold on now." He snapped the reins, and they were in motion.

It was an open carriage, more like a wagon he supposed. William watched as they passed through the streets of London, feeling like an average street rat hitching a quick ride. But, as he looked over at Grell, he was reminded that this was so much more. The red reaper remained as far away from the coffin as he physically could, hugging his knees and leaning against them, staring to the side at the roads as they passed by.

Blood was smeared all over Sutcliff's attire, not that the red jacket seemed affected all that much. The stitching job Will had done seemed to be holding well, but every once and while, Grell would bring his head up to feel the new stitchings and give off a quiet sigh. Being unable to lean on his left side and with the roads being uneven as they usually were, Spears couldn't help but think of the new pain. He hadn't been harmed at all, not even a single scratch, yet there sat Grell, who had been less than a meter from him, now in dire need of new attire and a proper cleansing of the new wounds he'd been issued.

Spears had gotten dressed without his tie, leaving his collar untucked and his black jacket sleeves rolled up, but he took both these items off, feeling the bitter cold of the night's gale force. Placing them upon the coffin, Spears positioned himself close to Grell on the other side of the wagon. Sutcliff glanced for a second.

"Oh Sutcliff, you've been trying to catch me shirtless for years and _this_ is your reaction?" Spears asked. The situation was true enough, Grell had been on a personal mission for a while to catch Will without all of his fancy clothes, but as expected, Will won that match. A few tears swelled up and let loose onto Grell's face. He shut them again and put his head down.

Will wrapped him around by the waist, forcing him out of that position and into his bare chest, but Grell pushed back, turning away.

"Sutcliff?" Will asked. More tears fell.

"For the first time, I don't feel safe. I'm not even..." Grell could barely speak.

Will gave him a few moments to collect himself, trying again to reach for him, but again, Grell tried to resist him. Now this was most unusual. The red reaper swallowed hard.

"No! How could you possible want this?" Grell exclaimed, pausing to take breaths that were labored and shaken. "It's...hideous."

Will knew he was referring to the stitchings. Again, he grabbed Grell and pulled him in and this time, he didn't resist.

"It's not hideous," Will corrected, adjusting his glasses. "You look fine."

A beat was skipped in Grell's chest at the sound of Will's voice uttering that last remark. Spears had thrown Grell onto his bare flesh, which was slightly cool to the touch, but Grell felt overheated, so that was all right with him. Sutcliff looked at the situation, knowing that Will was allowing him to bleed onto him, literally.

Not able to hold it back any longer, Grell grasped Will tightly around his torso. He thought it would have been better to think alone, but it was being alone that was starting to haunt him even more. Had he been alone with Knox came along, seeking part two of his vengeance, and he suspected he'd have never made it out alive without Will.

Usually, Grell had gotten himself into those kinds of situations. He usually was the one to initiate and go looking for trouble that usually put a mark on his life. Not this time, no. This time, someone had come after him, blindsided him to do so, and then came back looking for more. The worst part, it wasn't even a friendly quarrel. It was a strict mission to try and kill him. To kill a reaper, even knowing the consequences of such an action. Obviously, Knox rationalized with himself that the consequence would be worth the achievement. That is what shocked him the most about this situation.

The feeling of Grell's spicy tears hitting his chest was a new feeling, but Will couldn't help but feel obligated to stay with him. Trauma didn't last very long, but it did exist for a Grim Reaper. To be unable to remember one night and then have another attempt on life within less than a week, that would be enough for an unsuspecting victim to freak out even a little. For Grell, this was a new experience. This sort of thing never happened in the society, and William had done such a fine job to ensure that it wouldn't.

However, he'd obviously slipped through somewhere, and here was Grell, his oldest partner, as the target. Someone he should have known in the first place and most importantly, he'd become so comfortable getting Grell out of these situations, Will never thought he would ever fail at it, even once. Perhaps he was becoming too comfortable with his preconceived skill level.

"I failed," Will said. Grell was looking up at him as he thought about Knox's rash actions. He looked back to meet the gaze of the reaper. "I failed to protect you."

Grell said nothing for a few moments, retreating back to leaning against him, coming closer until he was practically on Spears' lap.

"I already owe you my life for what, the hundredth time now?" Grell said, angry with himself.

"This time was different. You got yourself into those messes, I just got you out," Spears said. "This time, trouble came for you, and as your manager, I'm supposed to keep a watchful eye on everyone in my division. Knox slipped right through me, and as a result, you were placed into a situation you should have never been in the first place. I should have watched Knox, everyone, closer. Those testing dates cause the most uproar, but I lacked in that area this time. And you..."

He stopped, realizing his own eyes were feeling more hydrated than usual. He grasped Grell closer to him, only satisfied when the red reaper laid his head on Will's shoulder.

"You're suffering. The reaper I've known the longest of everyone, and you had to suffer on account of my carelessness. That is something I feel is inexcusable for someone of my stature. So for this, I apologize, Grell. I should've been there."

Grell stayed close, hearing him out was the best he could do.

"It wasn't your fault," Grell said finally. "I'm the one who breaks the system every year. I ask far too ahead."

"Ah, and I let you break the system, every year," Will said. Grell looked up at him again. "Honestly when we're in that arena, it's like we're performing that final exam all over again."

"And why would you want to remember that?" Grell asked. "You hate admitting that I saved you."

"It's a consistency I'd rather prefer to keep around. You hate the job sometimes, but do a round with me and you find yourself performing much better than your usual best nights of reaping." Will looked down at Grell, knowing his point had gotten across.

"Y-you mean, you're saying that...you're saying that I push you?" Grell asked. Spears nodded.

"You push against the system all the time, but at the same time, you know the limits. You push me over the edge, to a point where I know I must perform my utmost. But, I know if I ever called on you, you wouldn't be ashamed or boast of saving me to everyone the next day, nor I to you. This time, though, I let my spectacles fall and the reaper who put them back on the first time was being chained by the record."

Grell gasped, understanding the analogy all too well. Will felt that since Grell knew how to push him, after taking the time to know him after so long, that he should have known the same of Grell. Because he felt he failed at seeing to his reapers and Knox's sudden rationality alteration, William felt he personally failed Grell, in the way in which Grell had first saved him.

"Testing dates remind me that you are still an excellent reaper," Will continued. "And your reports aren't half bad compared to Allan and Eric's."

That made Grell smirk as he came as close to Will as he could. He noticed Will's glasses dropping a little, but just as the black reaper came up to retrieve them, Grell pushed them up for him.

"They're still there," Grell said. "Trust me, I would know." He resumed his position against Spears, arms wrapped around his neck now and leaning against his shoulder like a sleepy child. Will smirked too, wrapping Grell at the waist again, never thinking he'd ever find Grell's presence against him to be the relief it had so intensely become.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: This is the last for this story! I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did writing it :)

**Chapter Eleven**

"We're here." Undertaker leaned back to embellish them with his cackling voice.

Undertaker's shop was right around the corner of where a construction was currently taking place. Therefore, the longer route was necessary, leaving them with about an hour's travel, but they had finally come to its end.

There was no movement by the coffin, so Will thought he'd knocked that reaper out good. Grell stood back with Undertaker after Spears handed him off. Once he pulled back the coffin, Knox was right there, wide awake and with his arms crossed.

"Get up," Will spoke, but the disdain rang clear. He scoffed, sighed and sat himself up.

"Do you understand what you have done?" Will asked. There was no reply from Knox. He actually looked intimidated and freaked out. Who wouldn't in the presence of William T. Spears after he had done something wrong?

Knox looked at him apprehensively. "Attempted murder," he replied.

"Correct," Will said. "Your misconduct could have resulted in the death of a reaper. You could have, at the very least, confronted the issue with Sutcliff face to face. Instead, you deliberately broke into my home and tried at both our lives. Sanctions must be issued. I am ensuring your demotion status for at least a few years time. Your deathscythe will be confiscated and you will work overtime for me during this period. After your time is determined and served, I will decide where you go from there."

"Yes Sir," Knox said, sighing.

"You are also being place on restraint and your interactions with Reaper Grell Sutcliff will be limited or within my presence. Do you understand?"

"Yes Sir."

"Good," Will sighed. "I need not ask why you decided this was a good idea. Off you go with the Undertaker."

Undertaker turned, giving off a wide grin of approval.

Ronald Knox jumped out of the coffin, asking what Undertaker could possibly want of him, to which Undertaker's laughter intensified as he introduced Reaper Knox to corpse preparation. This is where he would start.

Grell didn't move as Knox passed him, but their eyes met. Will observed Grell was not angry with Knox, though he expected Grell would have been. His stare told a different story, one that included Grell's desire to heal and feel disdain for Knox in future social settings, not revenge for what had been done. He just wanted Knox to leave him alone.

Spears approached Sutcliff, meeting the reaper's gaze with a gentle eye.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"I'm fine," Grell replied, looking back at Knox and Undertaker. "I don't exactly feel prepared for any more surprises, though."

"Understandable," Will said. "How are your stitchings?"

"Bloody tight and messy," Grell replied.

"Why don't you clean up? Take off your vest and shirt, they'll need to be washed as soon as possible," Will said.

Within the confines of the washroom, Sutcliff stripped himself of his entire upper half. Blood was nothing new, even his own, but when he laid the clothes aside, he was forced to look upon himself and that hideous scare that bore from his left cheek. Not only did it hurt like a bitch, but it was done by that dreaded Reaper Knox. Will would surely punish him rightly, yet Grell couldn't get over this wound as he washed it out thoroughly, no matter what the pain he had to endure.

For being in a hurry, Spears was a rather excellent seamster. The knots tied at both end were secure and unwavering, no matter what Grell did. Rather impressive to suit the Shiginami's hand that performed such a task outside of his current job experience.

A knock came at the door, startling Sutcliff briefly.

"You've been in there for quite a while. Are you all right?" that was Will's voice.

"Yes, I'm fine," Grell opened the door to reveal a less bloody grim reaper.

"You look much better," Will remarked, looking straight at the stitchings. "Looks like there's no infection."

"No, I didn't see anything either," Grell replied, sighing.

"Oh for God's sake Grell, you look fine," Spears said definitely. "The scar will heal and there will be nothing left of it by the end of the month, you know that."

"For an entire month, I will look like this," Grell said. "That's precisely the problem. I'm the reaper who was nearly reaped by an amateur, with a large gash on my once wonderful face to prove it too. I don't think you understand, Will." Turning away for a brief moment, Spears collected his thoughts.

"You are still expected to continue your work. I suggest you ignore the gossip. If it makes you feel any better..." he sighed, unable to believe he'd be saying such a thing. "...you look perfect to me."

Grell looked up at him, and Will knew that's exactly what Grell needed to hear right now.

"You, you really think that?" he asked. Will adjusted his glasses.

"It's not what I think, it's a statement of fact," he tried to retaliate, but there was no going back on it now. Grell threw himself against Will, a smile back on his face and with a close hug to match.

"Oh Will, I could never stay mad at you for _anything_!"

Spears returned the embrace, knowing this is what Grell needed, God knows he never got it regularly and without a small ego boost, Grell was just not himself.

"You were upset with me?" Will asked.

"For letting Knox get into your apartment, a little bit hon," Grell admitted.

"I'm personally annoyed by that intrusion as well. It will never happen again."

"Yes, I'm sure it won't," Grell was still hugging him. "Do I have to stay here tonight?"

William hadn't thought about that, but perhaps that was because he already had the answer to his own question.

"No," Will said. "You may return with me if you wish."

That was simply speaking his own mind, knowing Grell would hate to be alone right now. The two said their goodbyes to Undertaker after Sutcliff's clothes were laundered properly and the bloodstains were taken out. Last they left Knox, he was accentuating a mangled corpse with pink dyes, the bounder over his shoulder every step of the way.

* * *

Climbing into bed, Grell caught a glimpse of Will putting down a curtain to cover up the broken window. As he laid down to sleep, Spears changed and made a quick call to let the office know he and his guest would be arriving into the office late tomorrow afternoon.

"What are we up to tomorrow?" Grell asked as Will lay his own body down on the other side of the bed.

"Record-keeping. It was supposed to be done tonight but the reapings were rearranged. No matter, it's just a little overtime," Will said. "I'm sure we can accomplish that on our own. Of course, I'll have to rearrange your list of souls as well."

"Hmm, more overtime thanks to me again...Sorry about that," Grell said, looking the other way.

"Not your fault, this time," Spears replied. "Try and get some sleep."

William turned onto his back and Grell on his right side, facing Will. Closing his eyes, Spears knew he'd fall asleep for sure within a few minutes. Tonight was quite the affair.

Upon his waking, the room was shaded in black from the curtains he'd put up, making for an easy wake up. As he yawned, he could feel more pressure upon his chest than usual and that's when he opened his eyes, revealing Grell Sutcliff leaning against him with one arm over Spears' chest. Will placing his index and middle finger just under his jawline, confirming Grell was still pulsing during his sleep, experiencing even a few irregular heartbeats as he body continued to heal itself.

His eyes were closed, and his spectacles sat on the table near the other bedside, but for the time being, he was back against Will since last night most likely.

"Will?" the reaper mumbled, his eyes slitting open ever so slightly.

"Yes, Grell?" he asked, looking down at him.

"Do we get to go reaping tonight?" he asked sleepily and obviously oblivious, positioning his hand to touch Will's face.

"If you want," he replied, his mind already alert and focused for the day ahead of him. A reaping would mean less for those on staff tonight.

"Good...I _love_ reaping together."

Yes, today promised even more overtime.


End file.
